«L A J > U*\.. «. 







> v ••■.•- 



jP^ v 



V « » • i 



«r 












«5°** 



(5 °«* -i 










• <» 











^°<. . 







V ■<! 








AT <^» '•«•' VV ■"*. 'in "a" « 



















\/ .♦* 



o " o 












A * <?*. *•"* a° 

• • o 



1 *L^L'* 



*« 




of the 



£2>77 

m 



A Book Showing the Doughboy's Thoughts in 

Poems from Actual Experience in the 

Recent Conflict in Europe. 



... BY 



DAVID M. FUNK 




1910 

The Leader Press 

Johnstown. Pennsylvania 






Copyright, 1919 
By DAVID M. FUNK 



UUt 18 1919 



©CU5362-13 



s-WO 



CONTENTS 



Page. 

^ ■ The Battlefield 5- 7 

oq No-Man's Land 7- 8 

The Un-answered Prayer 8- 9 

^3 Over the Top 9-10 

The 'Vacant Chair 10-11 

*5 The Girl I Left Behind 11-13 

Our Spiritual Dangers . ., 13-14 

Quite Mistaken 14-16 

Only Pals • • 16 

The Unfaithful Lover 16-17 

As He Conies Marching Home 17-18 

Our Voyage 18-20 

On the Way 20-21 

Home, Sweet Home 21-22 

My Father • 22-23 

The Doughboy 24 

• Don't Forget What the Home Folks Did 24-26 

The "Y" Girl 26 

Service Flag • • 27-28 

Our Physical Danger ' 28-29 

The Bugle • • 30 

Her Request 30 

The Cigarette that Never Went Out 31 

A True Patriot 31 

Police Up . . ! 32 

Nobody Knows .' 32-33 

Only a Yankee Mans' Dream 34-35 

Where We Slept 35-36 

Good-Bye, Good Luck, God Bless You 36 

When the Boy Comes Home 37 

Return at Last • • 37 -38 

The Faithful Girl ' 38 

The Wooden Cross 38-39 

Still Carrying On 39-40 

The Way It ( 'nme to the Buck 40-42 

The Big Game 42 

What We Can Tell 42-43 

Our Dead 44 

Parting 4 1 

K. i > . (Kitchen Police) u i:> 



Page. 

Step By Step 45-46 

In Line 46-47 

Wiz-Bang ■ • 47-48 

In the Army Now 48-48 

Who He Caught 49 

The Red Cross Nurse 50 

Just American 50-51 

Five-Nine 51-52 

A Regular Meal 53 

The Golden Day • • 53 

Yankee 53-54 

Just Wondering 54-55 

His Mind Went Home 56-57 

Mother 57-58 

In Homeland of Our Dreams 59-60 

Our Fallen Dead 61 



POEMS 



More than fifteen months as a doughboy, twelve of which 
has been spent over there, has led me to believe that there are 
many things in the army and its environment of which we might 
tell to the folks back home for interest, entertainment and 
knowledge. In bringing out these features of the doughboys' life 
I have tried to limit my poems on army subjects or within the 
close environments of this great war. The poems show the feel- 
ing of the doughboy and the home folks as they stand separated 
by that great gulf throughout this 'big game. The poems treat 
subjects in their reality as the doughboy witnessed them through 
out the game. They are a history within themselves. The auth- 
or wishes to extend greetings to the ex- doughboys and the home 
folks who stood so faithful and loyal back of the government in 
the time of need. 

The Battlefield 

There's a field left in memory to the soldier lad, 

And its fears yet seen by man; 

Where once was all nature in its 'beauty it had, 

Made by God's wonderful hand. 

But now as we glance she is in desolation, 

From the momentous war we have fought, 

And our heart is grieved as the youth of a nation, 

Must die on that fateful spot. 

There once grew the wheat and the golden corn, 

And the fruit trees in blossom so sweet, 

But all too soon came that fateful morn, 

Just as sadness creeps nigh to the cheek. 

The grain was all trampled by soldiers of men , 

The fruit to the gas had to yield, 

And such was a picture seen time and again, 

On this wonderful battlefield. 

There once worked the peasant in peaceful charm, 

For his bread and butter to earn, 

A paradise then was, that little farm, 

He had all that his heart could yearn. 

But now his plantation undone and torn, 

Is the fate of a dangerous foe; 

And his thoughts and family all in forlorn, 

As it's struck by that terrible blow. 

There once grazed the flock in grasses so green, 

And the river babbled so clear; 

And the birds, unmolested and seldom seen, 

As they warbled their songs so dear. 

But now the flocks are gone In despair, 

And the river has changed to red; 

From the sacrifice of youth so fair, 

.With the blood he's compelled to shed, 



There once was nature in gayest scerene, 
And the sun spelled welcome in light; 
And the moon and the stars had naught intervene, 
From the Heavens most wonderful sight. 
But the host of array which battled for life, 
Changed the scene, as his way he did wield, 
Sad were the changes brought on by the strife, 
On this wide spreading battlefield. 

There were plans put in action of a masterful mind, 

In works of invention and skill, 

And the object of all was to seek and to find, 

A new way to slaughter and kill. 

And as the minds of men have worked through the years, 

They accomplished many things used in war; 

Though brave, it kept a man always in fear, 

On the battlefield with its abhor. 

There were aeroplanes soaring to get information, 

To carry back to the 'big guns; 

They would then swing them round, on to your station 

And put you to flight on the run. 

The shells how they burst no one can explain, 

Except the chap who was there, 

And the injury suffered in aches and pains, 

No one can attempt to compare. 

The machine gun bullets told a sad tale, 

As it hissed o'er the muddy parapit, 

It keeps you grieved and you're made to wail, 

"When you see your old pal get hit. 

There toy your side is a small wooden cross, 

Some mother's son lay in that lot, 

A supreme sacrifice he paid as the cost, 

On the battlefield, the priceless spot. 

The wire entanglements set for a trap, 

Bore a thought of fear and detest; 

And the dangers of Jerry coming in through a gap, 

Was quite bad we all confessed. 

The gases put out to contaminate the air 

In effort to make soldiers yield, 

Was a great incentive to bring forth a prayer, 

To be spared on this great battlefield. 

The sharp bayonet and the musket of old, 

Had its place in going "over the top," 

They've been used 'by warriors for years we are told, 

And their use in war never will stop. 

There was always a fear from explosive grenades, 

And the bom'bs that the planes would drop, 

They keep you in terror all night by the raids, 

On the battlefield "over the top." 

The old "five nine" told to all a sad tone, 
And the "whizbang" killed !by the score, 
It was sad to recall the lamentable moan, 
The effects of a barrage she put o'er, 

6 



The long range guns shook the earth with a crush, 
And the trench mortar was worst of the lot, 
You look unto God and pray with a trust, 
On the battlefield, Lord, leave me not. 

You may tell of sacrifices you made, 

That the old Flag might not fall, 

But the one who shared the greatest debt paid, 

Is the youth who gave life and all. 

The consecrated effort and hallowed name, 

Of soldiers the noblest lot, 

Hath worthily earned immortal fame, 

On the battlefield, that sacred spot. 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

"No Man's Land" 

'Twas a place right out before you, you could enter if you chose, 
It was never over crowded, cause if there you seldom rose. 
'Twas about two hundred yards in width, more or less at time, 
The fact is,it was known to be, between the Hun and our front 
line. 

Now no man's land we all have heard, for about four years or 

more, 
We heard, we spoke, we read it, without the least abhor. 
We heard them sing about it, and joke with thought most keen, 
Without the slightest idea, what no man's land doth mean. 

I picture first two armies, with a position on that land, 

"Where no man dared to enter, except, with life right in his hand. 

They fought and held each force at bay, and standing there in 

wait, 
With aim right on the no man's land, they shot you down in hate. 

So friend I next will enter, that old familiar place, 

Where one must crawl his way about, and dare not show his face. 

For if in observation, your almost sure to die, 

A thousand eyes upon' you, a thousand guns reply. 

You lay there all in wonder, as you clutch your rifle tight, 

You know not just what moment, you'd be in a hard old fight. 

Next you enter another shell hole, still more dangerous than 

before, 
You stop, you list, and then you crawl, into one shell hole more. 

You're sent out on a night patrol, or perhaps a midnight raid, 
You stop and think all to yourself, such a trip I never made. 
But on you go, live or die, for you received the old command, 
You think, you fear, you shudder, you do not understand. 

You're there with many dangers, of gas, of shot and shell, 
If in sixty-five Sherman was right, when he said "War is Hell," 
You think and say what must this be, with picture, Oh so sad! 
Destruction brought on by the war, ten thousand times as bad! 

You there must lay close to the ground, in hole or gap or trench, 
With shrapnel flying o'er your head, you've no way for defense. 
Before, are wire entanglements, and a mother's son lay dead. 
I see about me no man's land, in all its fearful dread. 



I hear the bullets hissing by, I see my pal get hit; 

I hear a moan, I see him die, in effort to do his bit. 

He there must stay while I go on ,to meet the treacherous Hun, 

It's no man's land, my friend, I heard it told by every gun. 

I hear the plane fly over me, in searching for the Yank. 

I hear the growling noise approach, of a death monstrous tank. 

I now can see most plainly, as there I take my stand, 

I see — I see — it's no -man's- land, at last — I understand. 

You lay and think your eyes in tears, from the gas that he put 

o'er, 
And in your mind are many fears, of chlorine as before. 
You think of friends and of their charm, and of that place so 

grand, 
Oh God! protect us from all harm, is our prayer from no-mans- 

land. 

We see old mother earth, in ruin, undone and torn, 
A sight before we never saw, since the day that we were born. 
You see in all a fearful sight, made by the children of men, 
In sweetest lips you breathe a prayer, God, when shall this thing 
end. 

It was no man's land, because, you see, no one could enter there, 
It was not the Hun's or allies brave, it was no place for you there. 
But it became the duties of soldiers oft, to go there and make a 

stand, 
And keep the faith and fight and die, for their country great and 
grand. 

Now when we see it as it was, at Argonne in all sad sights. 
We see the boy there lying dead, whose spirit took its flight. 
Then we see in all its sadness, as it actually appears, 
And you see it now forever, to remain throughout the years. 

When all the sons of men, who entered that strange land, 
And gave their life a ransom, for their country great and grand, 
Ascend their home on High, to abide within His care, 
Shall evermore remember, the no-man's-land back there. 

* * * 

The Unanswered Prayer 

Your prayer of noble mother, 

For your dear boy "over there," 
Was not to have him severed, 

From your loving smile and care. 
Oft you prayed for that dear son, 

That his young and priceless life; 
Would never hear the awful gun, 

In this world wide curse and strife. 

But as days and months went by, 

Bringing sad news to her ear; 
She asked with tear-stained eye, 

What brings about this fear? 
Her prayer now goes on high, 

With a trust and steadfast hope, 
To spare him by and by, 

From dangers He must cope. 

8 






Pie went to camp, he left her smile, 

And all his heart doth yearn, 
Yet she prayed in just a little while, 

To her he shall return. 
Yes, now her son has gone his way, 

To answer duties call, 
Yet every hour you hear her pray, 

That, He will not let him fall. 

When orders came for "over there," 

It filled her heart with pain, 
But still she uttered forth a prayer, 

That he'd return again. 
She thinks of him her youth so fair, 

And in her great caress, 
She trusts and put him in God's care, 

For Him to guide and bless. 

He enters the war in all its fright, 

Yes, mothers precious boy, 
Spare him, oh God, she prays each night, 

That such shall be her joy. 
Her boy she sees now, in her mind, 

Though he's far across the sea; 
iShe trusts that Providence most kind, 

Will bring him back to me. 

He stands in battle, how plain she sees! 

Each danger he must face, 
She says a prayer on bended knees, 

To spare him by His grave. 
•But, a bullet met him in his course, 

Which spoke a sad, sad tone; 
Mother's heart is left in sad remorse, 

For Heaven hath claimed its own. 



Over The Top 



This term came in use in the world wide war, 

Which was fought in the recent years, 

A term never heard by mankind before, 

Nor its horrors e'er witnessed in fears. 

But in nineteen fourteen, when war broke out, 

A term to our mind was brought, 

Which was heard by parent, sister, and son. 

And this term was "over the top." 

How often you heard it while back at your home, 

Without wandering what it did mean, 

You then never thought that some day you'd come, 

And hear that command so keen, 

You read it, you spoke it, you sang often, too, 

And danced without even a thought. 

Of the meaning of such a command to you. 

When given "over the top." 



When we hit the old line in. the danger zone, 
And our mind with shells were confused, 
We recall our thoughtlessness in the home, 
When "over the top" was used. 
But you see it now and you know its aibhor, 
As you experience the old command, 
And you see it now as never before, 
Over the top you understand. 

As you stand in the trench your mind all in wonder, 

These words from some lips will drop, 

Twenty minutes boys, till we take our stand yonder, 

And fight for it "over the top." 

Just a few minutes yet, but oh! what a thought, 

Can enter and go through your mind, 

When you hear them say "over the top," 

In the few minutes now assigned. 

The time has arrived, the commander has said, 

For ward now boys make a stand, 

You go to the task, thcugh your comrade fall dead, 

Before you have reached that land. 

But you fight to the last, determined to win, 

Your objective, the final spot, 

Your only hope is to trust in Him, 

While fighting it "over the top." 

You start on your duty, cross no man's land, 

With shells a bursting in fright. 

Death now approaches on every hand, 

With its sad and pitiful sight. 

The shrapnel, the bullet, the grenade and gas, 

All add to the burden you bore, 

And the term "over the top" comes home at last, 

In its sadness as never before. 

You fight through all danger for country and right, 

And the folks in the homeland clime; 

And your heart is grieved to see the sad sights, 

Of the boys who are left behind. 

You look unto God and say a prayer, 

As you stand in that dangerous spot, 

And ask His protection while standing there, 

In no-man's-land, "over the top." 



The Vacant Chair 

After the war many mothers are sad, 
Though the dove of peace came to their door; 
It took, from the home a soldier lad, 
To return to the dear ones no more. 
Though peace had comfort and joy to all, 
Some homes are now in despair, 
Because of their boy who there had to fall, 
And leave back a vacant chair. 

10 



Before the war in the home he was found, 

And his smile was a pleasure to meet, 

But now as the family goes on their round, 

They miss that rosy red cheek, 

There once was gladness, sunshine and joy, 

And he seemed to he everywhere, 

But now since the loss of their dear, dear boy, 

There remains a vacant chair. 

He was found in work most all of the -time, 

He shared a great part in the game, 

There always was happines joined to his chime, 

With his disposition always the same. 

But now as we witness the family who gave, 

That boy as their great share, 

We see a great change they all now have, 

Since, there, remains a vacant chair. 

This boy went to church doing his part, 

The Master's great work to achieve, 

He heard the teachings so dear to the heart, 

Which was comfort to those who believe. 

All mingled then, in pleasure and love, 

All free from the thought of care, 

But now since called to the home above, 

There remains a vacant chair. 

When duty faced him he answered the Call, 
And left that dear old family, 
He went to the fight and responded for all, 
In justice for liberty. 
"Yes, every day the folks in his home, 
Sent for him a loving prayer, 
But sad! he fell in the danger zone, 
And there remains a vacant chair. 



The Girl I Left Behind 

When you're far away from home, 
And you think your acting right, 
Then your mind will start to roam, 
Though you try to check it flight 
And 'before your are aware, 
It has brought into your mind, 
A picture of the one most fair, 
The girl you left behind. 

When your pals are just a fussin\ 
And your system on the bum, 
And you feel like just a cusshV, 
From the effects of army slum, 
Then, at once your mind has left you, 
And when you've caught up. you find, 
To all the world you've said adieu, 
Except the girl you left behind. 

11 



When the Sergeant's got a grouch, 

And perhaps the Captain, too. 

And some Second Lieut, has ibawled you out, 

Cause he'd nothing else to do; 

Makes you feel you had no pride, 

To be addressed in such a line, 

But you cast it all aside, 

For the girl you left behind. 

When you hear the bugle blowing, 

And you know you have to rise, 

While home, you'd hear the rooster crowing, 

And you simply rub your eyes.; 

But here we're with some different men, 

And we have it not so fine, 

Is it any wonder then we think 

Of the girl we left behind? 

When you have to stand inspection, 
And you think you have things right, 
And you get K. P. for a dirty gun, 
And it makes you wanta' fight; 
The only way to lose this thing, 
Which now has thrilled your spine, 
Is just to sit and think, and sing, 
Of the girl you left behind. 

When you hike over all creation, 

With your back all loaded o'er, 

You finally reach your destination, 

With your feet all blistered sore, 

Then you sit and think what best to do, 

And first this comes in mind, 

To write a line to the one you woo, 

The girl you left behind. 

When you're billeted in an old cow shed, 

And your temper mighty ibad, 

When you think you'd be better off, if dead, 

Cause your feeling so very sad; 

It's then you catch a glimpse of pride, 

And it makes you feel just fine, 

To cast all other thoughts aside. 

For the girl you left behind. 

When your feeling kinda' punk and blue, 
And the orderly has some mail, 
You feel there's always one for you, 
Cause you know she will not fail, 
You grab it right before the guys, 
And to everything you're blind, 
Except those smiles and gleaming eyes, 
Of the girl you left behind. 

When on maneuvers you take your station, 
After rugged hills you climb, 
Yet you know its assimilation 
But you have to pass the time; 

12 






Then it is your mind will wander, 
And your thought and soul inclined, 
To a subject far more fonder, 
It's the girl you left behind. 

Now that the strife is o'er, 
Homeward we'll soon be bound, 
And we'll hit that dear old shore, 
With 'body strong and sound, 
At last it is his pleasure 
To say "Will you be mine?" 
And take her as his treasure, 
The girl he left behind. 

Our Spiritual Danger 

If you have a danger to your soul, 

Escape it, use your power, 

It's your Master's will to have you whole, 

In that last dying hour. 

So guide yourself, my friend be strong, 

The fight will not be long. 

You hear a song immoral sung, 

Use your power against that kind, 

For while you think it's only fun, 

It blights your noble mind. 

Be true and act as His own son, 

Until those words you hear, well done. 

Immoral stories often heard, 

The boys to cheer in strife, 

Is found to leave the whole mind blured. 

For holiness in life. 

So son, be strong against such thought, 

Until your work in life is wrought. 

You see your brother fall to drink, 

A victim to that fate. 

Just try to have him stop and think, 

Before it is too late,. 

Then fight it son, with all your might, 

For family, God and right. 

You're tempted oft to fret and sigh, 

And often times to swear, 

Then let your thoughts ascend on high, 

In words of sweetest prayer. 

My friend return to Him just then, 

He'll make it right again. 

Your work is hard you say you're through, 

And give up in despair, 

Then friend hold fast and still pursue, 

in spite of all your care, 

Keep the faith, be Strong, tight still, 

For that's your Master's will. 

13 



When thoughts of sin come in your mind, 

Be steadfast and endure, 

For in His word we read and find, 

He wants you to be pure. 

Remember, son, the words He taught, 

My will be done, forget Me not. 

At last when this great race is run, 

And we hear our Saviour's voice, 

We then will hear, My son, well done, 

How hearts will then rejoice. 

My friend, you're free then from all care, 

To live with Him, forever, there. 

# * ♦ 



Quite Mistaken 



They told me when the war broke out, 

To cast it all aside, 
I'd never have to go about 

In a military stride. 
They said it would all be over, 

In a couple months or more, 
I could stay and play in the clover, 

The same as ever before. 

But as time advanced it brought a stir, 

In the government for a plan, 
To get a complete register 

Of every single man. 
Between twenty-one and thirty-one, 

They sent notice to appear, 
Just then we thought it all was fun, 

We had not the slightest fear. 

They told us "well you'll register," 

But that the end of all, 
But soon we found it to occur, 

That we received a call. 
An examination day was set, 

And every man turned out, 
To give a chance for them to get, 

The weak ones from the stout. 

You're examined, John, they tell me, 

Bet you'll never see a camp, 
For the war will end you see, 

Before you'll have to tramp. 
In a little while a notice came, 

Which said, "report today," 
And his opinion much the same, 

Replied to me this way. 

Well, friend, I guess you'll go to camp, 
For a couple months and then, 

Return to us and then you'll stamp 
At your old trade again. 

14 






You'll never have to go to France, 
For it's simple, don't you see, 

They can't make drafted men advance, 
Across the deep blue sea. 

We stayed in camp a while and drilled,. 

With worry, toil and care, 
And then again the beans were spilled, 

With orders for "over there." 
They marched us off to catch a (boat, 

How sadly we did go, 
And soon they had us all afloat, 

Without even a furlough. 

The next they said we'll hit this side, 

We'll see the country, then, 
In a month or so we'll take a ride, 

Back to our home again. 
But a month passed by and six or eight, 

And not a sign prevailed, 
To show or even indicate, 

The time that we'd set sail. 



They said you'll never share the blunt, 

For the Hun is about all in, 
And before you ever hit the front, 

They'll send you home again. 
But time went on and soon we found, 

In accents loud and clear, 
Of shells that fourst, an awful sound, 

Came rushing to our ear. 



We found ourselves at the front line, 

Four thousands miles from home, 
And yet they said there's not a sign, 

For any man to come. 
We're up here but we heard them say, 

You'll not need to return, 
For Fritzie now is held at bay, 

And soon you'll see him run. 

But we hit the front many time, 

And was in the hardest of the fight, 
Before old Fritzie changed his mind, 

And departed in his flight. 
It there became our saddest lot, 

To leave some boys behind, 
On a battlefield, a priceless spot, 

When they became sublime. 



We saw it all, both thick and thin, 

The price we helped to pay; 
It made you think and grin and grin, 

When you recall just what they say. 
When you hear them talk about it all, 

And know just how they go, 
And that you'd not receive a call. 

They are quite mistaken, though. 

15 



When you hear a man who says a thing, 

Of what you have to do, 
It's then the old, old saying will bring, 

A time to smile for you. 
From this time on I'll make a rule, 

Before advice I take, 
Not be too sure or be a fool, 

For it might foe a mistake. 

Only Pals 

He's no kin to me, it's plain as can be, 

Never saw him till I entered the tight, 

But we met with a shake, just for old time sake, 

And entered together for right. 

We drilled in Camp Lee, then crossed o'er the sea, 
To take our part in the game, 

No difference the weather, we both palled together, 
In spite of the hardships that came. 

We stuck to one another, just like our own brother, 
Though often exhausted and done, 
In spite of weary step, we kept up the pep, 
And palled onward and on and on. 

When we entered the front to pull off our stunt, 
We had dangers beyond compare, 

It made you feel bolder, to touch your pal's shoulder, 
And know he is with you up there. 

When we took up our stand in the no-man's land, 
What a sight as the shells burst in air, 
There many lives ended, their journey they wended, 
To the land so bright and fair. 

The old pal you made by your side he stayed, 
Through the war to comfort each other, 
One thing you can bet, you'll never forget, 
You rold pal who was just like a brother. 

You fought through each drive, and came out alive, 
And your pal by your side, came too. 
As long as you live, thanks to Him you will give, 
For protecting that old pal and you. 



The Unfaithful Lover 

When you left your better girl, 
And answered duties' call, 
She left you with a promise, 
That you were best of all. 
When he went off to the camp, 
He left the girl's fair smile, 
Yet she promised to be faithful, 
Though it be a long, long while. 

16 






While in camp to him she wrote, 

Told of things as they occur, 

And said she hoped the time would come, 

When he'd come back to her. 

She said the sweetest thing to you, 

About you as her lover, 

And always ended up by saying-, 

Sincerely, yours as ever. 

He went to France now far away. 

And fought for all her rights, 

And risk his life to do his part, 

In carrying on the fight. 

You notice now a change she had, 

In the line she writes to you, 

She does not speak of sweetest love, 

The way she used to do. 

You find that love is growing cold, 

While you are over there, 

And soon you'll find that she has taken, 

Another's love to share, 

So she's an unfaithful lover, 

Just like a slacker is she, 

Because she proved unfaithful, 

While duty called him o'er the sea. 

At last you get the word, 
From neighbors in your town, 
That your old girl, May or Nell, 
Has married Henry Brown. 
You wondered if this is the truth, 
ATDOut this little maid, 
You say I don't believe it, 
After the promise she has made. 

You get a letter which has the facts, 

Which says, yes, it's true, 

That little girl you left behind, 

Has played falsely to you. 

But, if that's her nature, it's ibetter she proved, 

To be the unfaithful lover, 

There are plenty of true ones left for you, 

And you'll be glad to take the other. 



As He Comes Marching Home 

The homeland sheds a radient light, 
Upon the youth who comes back home. 
His heart is filled with great delight, 
To return from 'cross the foam, 

A smile he meets, from all lie greets, 
As he comes marching home. 
The home folks charm is brighter, too. 
When youth steps in from cross the sea, 
Mis countenance takes away the blues. 

And all are in their greatest glee. 

And all the while, he gets a smile, 
As he comes marching home. 

17 



The mother's heart is filled with joy, 

And father's happy as can be, 

To see the youth that fair- eyed boy, 

Who f ought for Liberty. 

They shake your hand, you understand, 
As he conies inarching- home. 

The soldier boy he's also glad, 

And the happiest one of all, 

To share that smile the first he had, 

Since a year ago, last fall. 

You're free from care you say a prayer, 
As he comes marching home. 

He tramped man: a weary road, 

In the fighting of the past, 

He kept the faith and bore the load, 

And peace came nigh at last, 

Where'er he trod he thanked his God, 
For 'bringing him back home. 

4 s 4 s 4s 



Our Voyage 



They marched us up an old gang plank, 

To enter on a ship, 

Then marched us down to hit our bunk, 

We liked it not a bit. 

We unslung our equipment, 

In a dungeon as it appeared. 

And started across the ocean, 

In all its thoughts of fear. 

We set out from the homeland, 
Of course we bore a smile, 
We found that disposition, 
To last but a short while. 
It was very aggravating, 
The things you had to do, 
And our smile soon went away, 
With a feeling rather blue. 

We went down the old ' Chesapeake, 

And entered the ocean wide. 

With thoughts, of course, of being sunk 

Before hitting the other side. 

We sailed a day and soon we found, 

The land was out of sight. 

And we were left far out from home, 

To spend our first great night. 

They lined us up for chow call. 

In length about a mile, 

We thought of many things to say. 

About such army style. 

You'd stand in line for hours and wait, 

And wish your time to come, 

And when at last you'd reach the place, 

All you'd get was army slum. 

18 



They'd have slum for sure at breakfast, 

I might as well confess, 

And slum for noon and supper, 

No 'better than the rest. 

Now don't ask how they make this slum, 

Or this I'll have to say, 

It is just a bunch of accumulation, 

And they dispose of it this way. 

We saw great schools of fishes, 
That sure looked mighty fine, 
You put it down in memory, 
To tell folks you left behind. 
We saw the great wide ocean, 
In its billows tossed about, 
And we saw the evening sunset, 
With its rays all cast about. 

After sailing aibout two days or more, 
There comes about a trick, 
Which made you smile to see the boys, 
Who now became sea sick. 
You sat about most any time, 
No different when you wished, 
You'd see a man ooze to the side, 
And attempt to feed a fish. 

Now on a ship that's crowded full, 
With four thousand men or more, 
You many times get bawled right out, 
And it makes you feel quite sore. 
All the time we were on our trip, 
This word you'd hear them say, 
You can't stay here, you can't go there, 
You can't come down this way. 

You lay down on your bunk to rest, 
They say "up the deck." 
You say I'll go up there and rest, 
But, up there, they send you back. 
We thought it out and every man, 
Right then made his confess, 
That Kaiser Bill in his false dream, 
Got us in this awful mess. 

Each day they would be after, 

Every man on the old boat, 

To abandon it in order. 

In case she went afloat. 

And this one thing I know, 

I surely had my fill, 

Of falling out in scramble, 

In abandoning the old ship drill. 

They'd call you In the morning, 
They'd call you night Or noon. 
They kept you so provoked, 
That you'd rather meet your doom. 

19 



Than answer all the calls they used, 
To show their discipline, 
To have you on the go in case, 
They run into a Hun. 

It was upstairs for inspection. 

Every hour in the day, 

They'd look you o'er from head to foot, 

And not a word could a soldier say. 

They'd look you over when you pass, 

And search for all disease, 

They talk and say what you must do, 

As much as they would please. 

Now fourteen days had passed away, 
And at last we hit the shore, 
And every man was proud to say, 
We're on dry land once more. 
We all gave thanks to Him on high, 
For His guidance and His care, 
And hope to return by and by, 
To that land so bright and fair. 

♦ *H ♦ 

On The Way 

We saw him as he left his home, 

And marched off to the train, 
We saw them crowd the station dome, 

And say good bye again. 
We saw him as the train pulled out, 

As they left in finest style, 
We saw them give that farewell shout, 

And depart with a hearty smile. 

We saw them enter into camp, 

In training for the strife, 
We saw them drill in dry and damp, 

To make them strong in life. 
We saw them soon depart from there, 

A batallion deep in file, 
In spite of worry, toil and care, 

We hiked it 'with a smile. 

We saw him now at seaport, 

As he set a'board a boat 
The crowd gave him loyal support, 

Before he starts afloat. 
We saw him then far out from land, 

Having now been in revile, 
But yet he trusts he'll understand, 

And still keep on the smile. 

We saw him as he lands in France, 

And hit the soil once more, 
He marches now in great enhance, 

Until his feet are sore. 
We saw him as he hits his bunk, 

After hiking many a mile, 
Although he's feeling very punk, 

On his face is found a smile. 

20 



We saw him going to the line, 

Through mud with heavy pack, 
Now you may say, if he felt fine, 

With a load upon his back. 
We saw him in his first barrage, 

In spite of thought beguile, 
He grits his teeth and makes the charge 

And does it with a smile. 

We saw him stand at old Verdun, 

In gas and shot and shell, 
A glance about convinced one so'on, 

That such a place was hell. 
We saw him clinch his gun and stand, 

When all things seemed in vain, 
Though death approached on every hand 

But, still he smiled again. 

We saw him now a different boy, 

When hostilities were to cease, 
To him it brought exceeding joy, 

In hopes of permanent peace. 
With sore feet, far back in France, 

We hiked two hundred miles 
To him it seemed quite a hard chance, 

Yet he undertook it with a smile. 

Dear folks at home, I send you this, 

As a token for my part, 
May it take the place of that fair kiss, 

As an em'blem of my heart. 
And one more word I have to add, 

So I say it in the same old style, 
I'm coming home, I'm glad, I'm glad, 

Yes, I'm coming with a smile. 



Home, Sweet Home 

Among the beautiful pictures, 
That hang on my memory wall; 
Is a picture of my old home, 
That seems the best of all. 
Not for its grand old shade trees, 
Which decked the place throughout, 
Nor for the flowers golden 
Which one would see about. 

Not for its cows and horses, 
Though these were very fine, 
Nor for the rain or snowfall. 
I ►ifferenl from other clime; 
Not for the vinos on uplands 
win n* the red strawberries grow, 
Nor for the fruit of the orchard, 

Though thai was good, as you know. 

21 



Not for the song- of the birds, 
That warble in your ears; 
Nor for the sound of the rooster, 
With his morning chanticleer, 
Not for the car that awaits me, 
Though all these things are fine, 
Do they enter and leave a picture, 
Of memory on my mind. 

But for the dear, dear family, 
That is there in all its glory, 
With the smiles and gleaming eyes, 
When they tell the old, old story. 
Bright as the morning sun, 
Free as the winds that blow; 
I left my dear, dear family, 
About one year ago. 

Sweetly our time passed away, 
With father and mother there; 
And children all mingled together, 
Free from worry and care. 
At night when the beams of sunset, 
Lodged in the tree tops bright, 
We slumbered in His protection 
Through the dark and silent night. 

When duty called you to leave it, 
Then a picture came in your mind, 
Of the good things you are missing, 
In the home now left behind. 
One thing on my memory is painted, 
The farther I seem to roam, 
There's no place on earth quite so fine, 
As your dear old "home sweet home." 



My Father 



My dad is not a regular writing man, 

He lets the women folks attend to that, 

But when it comes to thoughts and actions grand, 

To him you simply must take off your hat. 

While he doesn't sit and write a letter, 

And tell about the things he knows. 

He thinks it and you feel the better 

As through the days of life he goes. 

He has a lot of business on his mind, 

He's on the go all through his life, 

And yet its true we often find, 

He's thought most deeply of this strife. 

Of how the sons of men went forth and fought, 

For liberty, for dad and family too. 

And of the part his son has wrought 

To help bring victory, through and through. 

22 



Last April when I was called to do my part, 
Go to camp, and leave the old home charm, 
The other folks, they all saw me depart, 
But dad remained and worked on the old farm. 
But when I left him, in the best of health, 
He came to me and took me by the hand, 
Saying-, "Good bye, my son, take care yourself," 
And I'm sure he knew I'd understand. 

So when mother writes and tells her 'boy, 
About the thing's at home they do, 
And how she things of him with joy, 
Just then, I know he's thinking too. 
Although he did not write, you see, 
And tell me what was in his mind, 
I know his thought come o'er to me, 
Although he's not the writing kind. 

When news reached all that peace was near, 

And that the Yanks had won the .war, 

Letters came from home which seemed so dear, 

From the same ones as before. 

The women folks they felt so glad, 

And wrote of thanks and fame, 

With not a word received from dad, 

But I knew he thought the same. 

Now, the women folks all write and say, 

"We hope you'll soon return," 

They told me oft, "for this they pray," 

And for that their heart doth yearn. 

Yet father never says a word, 

But down deep in his heart, 

A voice in action may be heard, 

Which says, "I'll do my part." 

Perhaps, I'll soon return from here, 
Back from the glorious fight, 
And not a word from dad appear, 
To tell of his delight. 
But he may write, I know he can, 
Some prophecies come true; 
But if he don't I'll understand, 
And dad will know I do. 

When I return in the home again, 
All free from army care, 
In joy and smiles and question then, 
I know he'll do his share. 
Although he did not write to me, 
While in Camp or in the line, 
I'll then be happy, so will he. 
Though he's not the writing kind. 



23 



The Dough Boy 

I saw the young dough boy in beauty and pride, 

Bedecked in his army array; 

The great spark of manhood displayed by his side, 

The day that he sailed away. 

And the mother's devotion was laid at his heart, 

The dough 'boy her pride and joy, 

We saw that mother as time eame to part, 

Shed tears, when she gave up her boy. 

We saw the old doughboy when far, far away, 

His heart strings all bleeding and torn, 

With a thought all in vain, 'back to the day, 

Of his childhood when he was born. 

We see him stand on the soil of France, 

With his thoughts across the sea, 

"We saw him fight and take his chance, 

With the Hun in his treachery. 

We saw him show a mighty good style, 

When he hits the old front line, 

He strikes his blow and keeps on a smile, 

In spite of the ones left behind. 

We saw the old doughboy in mud to his knees, 

With a cold and aching heart, 

From the wet, wet weather and chilly breeze, 

In efforts to do his part. 

We saw him stand through the entire game, 

The burden he bore all the way: 

And his sweet countenance always the same, 

'Till he saw that victorious day. 

So doughboy you won a place in each heart, 

Among the host of people passed by, 

You answered the call and did your part, 

And your name shall never die. 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

Don't Forget What the Home Folks Did 

Don't forget the home folks, 
The part they played in the war, 
While some went forth to meet the Hun, 
Others stayed home as before. 

Don't forget what mother did, 

The many socks she knit, 

And worked till her eyes were weary, 

In efforts doing her bit. 

Don't forget what father did, 
As he tilled the soil for wheat, 
And furnished you with bread, 
While he had subs to eat. 

Don't forget what sister did, 
Made bandages for the Red Cross, 
And sent them off to France, 
To check our army loss. 

24 



Don't forget what brother did, 
He made bullets for the gun, 
And sent them over there, 
To fight the treacherous Hun. 

Don't forget the bonds they bought, 
To carry on this fray, 
So you could stand and do your part, 
Until you won the day. 

Don't forget the little tots, 
As the saving stamps they bought, 
And gave their pennies in the game, 
As victory was sought. 

Don't forget how factories boomed, 
By home folks, as before, 
And the part they helped to play, 
In winning this great war. 

Don't forget the old home folks. 
And their loving prayer, 
To bring success to their dear boys, 
While fighting over there. 

Don't forget just how their heart, 
Was under heavy strain, 
While you were gone for many months, 
For victory to gain. 

Don't forget how they feared the sight, 
Of the telegraph boy to come, 
Lest he bring to you sad news, 
Of your boy across the foam. 

Don't forget how they dreaded to hear, 
The ring of the old telephone, 
Lest sad news come to your ear, 
That your boy would not be home. 

Don't forget how they stood in waiting, 
With worry in their heart, 
Don't forget my boy they had, 
To play the hardest part.- 

Don't forget how they got the news, 
Some boy was wounded today, 
With nothing to say if dead or alive, 
For a period of many a day. 

Don't forget the burden this brings. 
To the heart, now, in pain. 
And remember they too had a part, 
In this great world wide game, 

Yes home folks, you did your part, 

You, too, have won a name, 

We .^iv<> you credit, we're proud to say, 

For playing ;i noble game. 



IIKWJ 



So in giving glory please don't forget, 

The home folks deserve their share, 

For their prayer, their heart and soul they gave, 

For success to the boys over there. 

* * * 

The "Y" Girl 

She is over here in France, 
Three thousand miles from home, 
She was willing for the chance, 
When she volunteered to come, 
When the country needed men, 
For the musket in the fight, 
She volunteered to stand with them, 
For Liberty and right. 

IMany ways she helps the doughboy, 
To keep him in good cheer, 
And give him old time joy, 
Which he had in gone by years, 
Though the problem was a hard one, 
And it took a lot of grit, 
She stood and cheered the weary son, 
And helped him do his bit. 

She takes the place of mother, 

To the weary homesick lad, 

And just like sis or brother, 

She keeps you feeling glad, 

When you return back from the line 

And feeling tired and blue, 

She came and made you feel quite fine, 

With the smile she gave to you. 

Just to hear one English word, 

From a girl that you compree, 

Is worth a thousand ones you heard, 

From the Frenchies you would see. 

Yes, she has a disposition, 

And a love within her eye, 

That makes you hold a heap o' pride, 

For the girl found in the "Y." 

When you meet the girl, there and then, 

She says, how-d-do so sweet, 

It makes you feel you have a friend, 

Like mother, hard to beat. 

She gives kind words and oft a smile, 

That stays there in your mind, 

And leaves a picture, the very style, 

Of the one you left behind. 

And now the war is to an end, 

And to France we say adieu, 

We remember you our greatest friend, 

Who helped to cheer us through, 

And now as we will soon depart, 

We'll hojd the greatest pride, 

For the girl in the 'Y' 'who did her part, 

And stood with us side by side. 

26 









Service Flag 



It was hung- up in the window, 

Colored, red, white and blue; 
So the public all could see it, 

And know its meaning, too. 
Its outer field was all in red, 

With its inner one in white; 
And the star found in the center, 

Represents one in the fight. 

Never was a flag more handsome, 

In the ages of the years; 
Nor a flag which seemed so precious, 

As the one paid for in tears. 
Never was one any greater, 

To mother's precious heart, 
Than the one there in the window, 

Showing she hath done her part. 

After sons had stood in waiting, 

And departed with good bye; 
Then we hung" you in the window, 

With a tear stain in your eye. 
Yet we had a heap of pride, 

For the place you now install; 
So we hung you there to speak, 

'Cause your meaning tells it all. 

Through the sunny days of summer, 

And winter damp and cold; 
You there spoke forth a message, 

Of some boy so brave and bold. 
Service Flag, we're proud of you, 

And all for which you stand; 
Who went to give his service, 

For his country great and grand. 

You fly and show your colors, 

Through the window pane so fair; 
You're placed there by a mother's hand, 

And by a mother's prayer. 
To all who pass your way, 

And see your lonely star, 
We hear them whisper in sweet tone, 

What a wonderful flag you are. 

Never was a flag so close to home, 

As the one up there you see; 
It stands for one who left to fight, 

For right and liberty. 
Through all the trouble he must go, 

In fighting to do his part; 
I wave for you and speak most proud, 

To every human heart. 

I speak of many sorry hearts, 

Because you are not here; 
] speak of anxious hearts that, boar, 

And throb in all its fear. 



My colors shine to all I meet. 

The old red, white and blue; 
And through the clays of coming years, 

I'll stand and wave for you. 

Service Flag, you cheer our heart, 

Hung in the window there; 
Placed by a hand in loving thought, 

Hung by a mother's prayer. 
Service Flag we adore you still, 

With your little lonely star; 
And in coming years we always will, 

What a. wonderful flag you are. 

% H* H* 

Our Physical Danger Over There 

There were many dangers we went through, 
From the time we entered the strife. 
And often and often we thought we knew, 
Our time about ended in life. 

We had many dangers with which to contend, 
In holding the old flag. 

And just what moment our life might end, 
Was something no one could brag. 

There was first of all many hardships, 

That is common in a soldiers career. 

There was sickness with "flu" and the grippe, 

Which made every man have a fear. 

There were colds which came from our hiking, 
Sad, but true, it was found. 
Quite often our lot in making. 
Our bed on the cold, cold ground. 

There was danger from the cold wet weather, 
There was danger from drinking in thirst, 
It was bad when all taken togther. 
But true, ''it might have been worse.'' 

There was danger from shot of a rifle. 
Which thrilled you through and through. 
When you know if closer, a trifle. 
Would have meant the end of you. 

There was danger of the old bayonet. 
In the range of a close hand fight. 
And as a rule the one remaining yet. 
Is the one superior in might. 

There was danger from the grenade, 
When cornered in a trench. 
The one that got the first throw made. 
Was the one who made the offence. 

There was danger from the old pistol. 
In scrapping at a short range. 
It was a very sad thing to list to. 
Cause, it so oft brought about a change. 



28 



The automatic also, had a thrill, 

Which said, "keep your head down," 

Or I will give you your fill, 

From your feet to the top of your crown. 

There was danger from the seventy-five, 
Worse than any before, 
Lucky were you to be alive, 
In a barrage which she put o'er. 

There was danger from the old whiz bang, 
As every man will recall 
We remember well the words it sang, 
Don't worry, I'll get you all. 

There was danger from the old five nine, 
Which spoke in a tone of its own, 
Every one was much inclined, 
To let that one alone. 

There was danger from the long range guns, 
While back in rear for rest, 
There was danger for all mother's sons, 
It's bad we all confessed. 

There's danger far back in the town , 
From Jerries' planes at night, 
They'd hover o'er, their bombs drop down, 
And leave a horrid sight. 

There was danger from the airplanes, 
From his bullets he would shoot, 
He'd burn up balloons, to show his fame, 
And drop a bomb to boot. 

There was danger from the gas he'd throw, 

As often times its said, 

It represents two kind, you know, 

The quick, and the dead. 

Their was danger in going over the top, 
In observation clear, 

You knew not the time, you'd have to stop, 
And fight a duel in fear. 

There was danger at all times of a barrage, 
For you to take your stand, 
And grit your teeth, and make a charge, 
For your country brave and grand. 

There were dangers, yes, we must confess, 
But we faced them staunch and brave, 
With liberty and happiness, 
For all mankind to save. 

Now that we're through and spared from all, 
Give thanks to Him on high, 
Because I Ce would not let you fall. 
And lot you live, not die. 

20 



Her Request 



Bring* back to me, those things you took away, 

The peace of happy hours, 

The sweetness, like the flowers, 
For when you're gone the world is drear and gray. 

Bring me that look that ever makes you glad, 

That rare and wondrous part, 

Which cheers a weary heart, 
And gives the old time joy one formally had. 

Bring me your smile which makes it home again, 

The one you gave me last, 

And this is all I ask, 
From you my dear and truest friend. 

* * * 

The Bugle 

So keen and clear, 

Falls on your ear, 

The bugle from some distant spot, 

And all too soon, 

Is heard the tune, 

Which calls the soldier from his cot, 

The muddy town, 

Where we are found, 

With its streets and houses gray, 

Oft heard that fuss, 

Of the soldiers' cuss, 

When they heard the bugle play. 

No woodman thrush, 

Through wildlands brush, 

Could hear a tune which spoke so sad, 

As on that morn, 

The bugle horn, 

Woke up the soldier lad. 

It made him moan 

And roll and groan, 

When the bugler made his round, 

You had to step, 

With a bit of pep, 

When you heard the bugle sound. 

Through army life, 

You caused us strife, 

For you never was our friend, 

Our joys you sought, 

And trouble brought, 

In the army unto the end. 

When we leave this strife, 

From the army life, 

We make one request of you, 

Never utter a sound, 

Should you come around, 

For, to the bugle we all say adieu. 

30 



The Cigarette That Never Went Out 

When we started across the ocean, 
Every man on the old boat, 
Had to give up all his matches, 
Before they went afloat. 

The officers came and lifted, 
Every light of any kind, 
So at night we'd be in darkness, 
And not give forth a sign. 

Now, every single soldier, 
Smoked his cigarette in glee, 
And not one was permitted, 
To have light across the sea. 

At eve you always heard them say, 
Lights out, no smoke at night, 
Then you lay the cigarette away 
Until the next day's light. 

Now it's true no man has matches, 
But when the following daylight broke, 
Every one was then enjoying, 
His same old hearty smoke. 

We don't know where they got the fire, 

To start their cigarette, 

But they always had their smoke, 

This one thing you can <bet. m f 

Now this might seem quite funny, 
And perhaps you'll hold a doubt, 
But the truth about this cigarette is v 
The stub never went out. 

A True Patriot 

There's a little old mother by the cottage door, 
Awaiting that golden day, 
To see her boy return from the war, 
Marching so gallant and gay. 

Little, old, and feeble is she, 
Not able to do much at all, 
But she gave a son for Liberty, 
When duty gave forth the call. 

She's a patriot, too, we all will say, 
Though she did not go to the fight, 
She's doing her bit though old and gray, 
For Liberty, justice and right. 

Each evening she prays for him over there, 
And at morning she also invokes, 
A blessing on the countries welfare, 
On her son and all other folks. 

Yes, there's a heart in thai dear old mother, 

To country its faithful and true, 

Like a soldier <>r any other, 

She's a patriot through and through. 

31 



Police Up 



This word is very common, 
In a soldier's career, 
As sure as morning- broke, 
Police up, you would hear. 

When dozing- on the bunk, 
They wake you from your nap. 
With these old familiar words, 
Outside, "Police up." 

When your thoughts are home 
And your thinking of the bride, 
Your thoughts are then molested by, 
Police up, outside. 

When you pass away the time, 
Then you hear some one get up, 
And say, you can't stay here, 
Out side, police up. 

In all our army life, 
We were molested by some pup, 
Who was every more a saying, 
Outside, police up. 



* 



Nobody Knows 

Nobody knows a soldier's career, 

While fighting it in war. 

Nobody knows half his fear. 

And the dread of its abhor. 

Nobody knows of the old camp life, 

With its privileges so rare; 

Nobody knows one half his strife, 

In worry, toil and care. 

Nobody knows of the life in France, 

And the hardships we had there; 

Nobody knows how we took our chance, 

With the burden wo had to bear. 

Nobody knows of the old long hike, 

We had with heavy pack; 

Nobody knows the old long pike, 

\\'c hiked with tired back; 

Nobody knows how hungry wo were, 

While up around the line; 

Nobody knows what things were there, 

To trouble a soldier's mind. 

knows of the gas they used, 
To kill the children of men; 
Nobody knows how wo were confused, 
By the Hun, time and again. 
Nobody knows how the bombs shook, 
The earth by their wild fall; 
Nobody knows of the life they took. 
By sounding their death tone call. 

32 






Nobody knows how the shells did sound, 
As they burst on every hand; 
Nobody knows of the bloody wound, 
They made where're they land. 
Nobody knows how that bullet spoke, 
When it hit in this great tide; 
Nobody knows how your heart was Droke, 
When your pal fell by your side. 
Nobody knows of the sharp bayonet, 
And its work "over the top;" 
Nobody knows if unconquered yet, 
How long- before you will drop. 
Nobody knows how lonesome you are, 
As you stand out there on post; 
Nobody knows just how far, 
You are from the enemy host. 
Nobody knows of no-man's-land, 
And the dreaded dangers there; 
Nobody knows what it was to stand, 
And face the dangers there. 
Nobody knows just how you feel, 
When over the top you go; 
Nobody knows who may be killed, 
When you meet the treacherous foe. 
Nobody knows of the old barb wire, 
Which stratches your flesh and clothes; 
Nobody knows of the muck and mire, 
He waded as onward he goes. 

Nobody knows of the flares at night, 

As they shoot them into the air; 

Nobody knows how you dodge in fright, 

To hide from the enemy there. 

Nobody knows how you shivered from cold, 

From sleeping in open air; 

Nobody knows the positions you hold, 

In the curses of warfare. 

Nobody knows of the aches and pains, 

To the soldier while over there; 

Nobody knows of the damps and rains, 

He endured to do his share. 

Nobody knows the hardships he had, 

While doing his part in the fight; 

Nobody knows how his heart turned glad, 

When we won the war for right. 

Nobody knows of the trials in war, 

And the burdens we had to bear, 

Excepting God, whom we adore, 

And the soldier lad who was there. 




























33 



Only a Yankee Man's Dream 

Last night as I lay down to rest, 
With military all I could see, 
And longing for some one's caress, 
In my trouble it brought unto me, 
At nine thirty in slumber I went, 
And took a trip over the sea, 
To the home land my mind was bent, 
Which brought happiness unto me. 

I saw my old mother to greet, 
And father he came with a smile, 
And sisters how glad they did meet, 
Their brother not seen for a while, 
My brother was down to the train 
And how all the friends did shout, 
To see me back home again, 
And hear what it all was about. 

I sat to a table before me, 

Without even standing in line, 

How my heart was filed with glee, 

To see those eats so fine, 

I had biscuits and fresh country butter, 

I had cake and plenty of pie, 

I ate till I scarcely could utter, 

A word without giving a sigh. 

I rode in a passenger train, 
With cushion to sit upon, 
I was a real old civic again, 
I thought it was sure tres bon, 
I could ride on any old street car, 
If I wanted to go down the pike, 
Or ride in the auto as far, 
As I formally had to hike. 

I attended an old time party, 
All folks were invited to come, 
They treated me kindly and hearty, 
And welcomed me back to the fun, 
They had a big dinner for me, 
Those eats of how I adore, 
I ate till I was full as could be, 
And still I tried to eat more. 

I went to call on my girl, 
And talk about having your joy, 
It sure did there unfurl, 
When she saw her heroic boy, 
I sung again the old songs, 
And heard the victrola so sweet, 
The one I had missed for so long, 
Which I know is hard to beat. 

I heard a sweet voice again sing, 
The one which could charm you through, 
And comfort to your heart would bring, 
When you were feeling blue. 

34 



I attended the old church so dear, 
Where the children came into the fold, 
And the words of life did hear, 
Which brought peace unto their soul. 

I saw the school house on the hill, 
Where I went when I was young-, 
I saw the seat which I would fill, 
And heard the songs we sung-. 
I saw the girl which was my pride, 
Then only a little tot, 
The one who sat there side by side, 
What joy this visit brought. 

I saw my old violin, 

The piano and sisters, too, 

I placed it underneath my chin, 

And played as I used to do. 

I sang the latest popular airs, 

And joked and laughed in glee, 

I there was free from army care, 

Which made it bon for me. 

I saw the old, old stairway, 

Which led to my spring bed. 

I saw these things as there I lay, 

In slumber as if dead. 

Seeing them, they made me glad, 

How wonderful it did seem, 

The bugle blew, it's true, but sad, 

It was only a Yankee man's dream. 



Where We Slept 

We slept in stalls, made for the horse, 

And also for the kine; 

We slept in pens made for the sheep, 

And also for the swine. 

We slept in places for the fowl, 

And robbed them of their bed; 

And slept in places where it's true, 

A pig should sleep instead. 

We slept in mud six inches deep, 
With water sobbing through, 
We slept in German dugouts. 
And ones of allies, too. 
We slept in cold wet trenches, 
With rain fall on your bed; 
We slept with aches and pains, 
From feet up to our head. 

We slept on hard rock floor, 
And floors made out of wood; 
We slept on floors of tile, 
And made it best we could, 

35 



We slept on wire netting, 
And bags of old cement, 
We slept on any thing we found, 
That came, where're we went. 

We slept on concrete floors, 

And on the dusty road; 

We slept in many a pup tent, 

After bearing a heavy load,. 

We slept in old French stables, 

And also in their barn; 

We slept in old cold box cars, 

With its bumping and alarm. 

We slept in many a forest, 
And shivered through the night, 
Until the following morning, 
Broke its new days light. 
We slept in near by shell holes, 
And bivvies made by hand; 
And how we came through all, 
Is hard to understand. 

On every thing we can conceive, 

We laid our weary head; 

And passed' the night as best we could, 

Except, a regular bed. 

But we lay no kick about these things, 

We understood it all, 

We answered duties call in war, 

That the old Flag would not fall. 

But we're glad that health and strength, 

Was with us in this war; 

And also glad we're coming back, 

To the old spring bed once more. 



Good Bye, Good Luck, God Bless You 

Good bye, good luck, God bless you, 

Is what we heard them say, 

When we left to cross the ocean, 

And enter in this fray. 

We left with greatest hope and pride, 

When time to say adieu, 

And the last they paid to you was, 

Good bye, good luck, God Bless you. 

We left the home folks and their charm. 

But they gave to us their prayer, 

As they sent us on our mission, 

Of justice "over there." 

They sent with us their promise, 

To back us till it's through, 

Their hope, their prayer, in words they gave, 

Good bye, good luck, God bless you. 

36 



When the Boy Comes Home 

It's a different world when your boy arrives, 
And a wonderful change has come into your lives, 
There's a smile from mother and one from your lad, 
A change that has altered the former they had, 
For all of the future that ever you'll see, 
You'll remember when sonny came back to thee, 
And all that you'll dream of, or all that you'll say, 
Is my boy has returned, hip, hip, hurrah. 

It's a curious thrill you get when you hear, 
Your son's first story heard for a year, 
The past all departs and you center your thought, 
On the glad news and joy your sonny has brought. 
Your son now is home from the army he's free, ■ 
And your lives from that instant is filled full of glee, 
The past had its pleasure, but none could compare, 
With the joy you and sonny now will share. 

It's a different world when the sonny appears, 

It's not the same place it has been through the years, 

That empty spring bed and the one vacant chair, 

Has kept him in memory while far over there. 

Now he stands in the center of all that you plan, 

You're a different person, he's a different man, 

Your thoughts have been changed, and your plans, too, 

Since fortune has returned your sonny to you. 

While away the old home seemed but a place, 

You kept him in mind, how plain was that face, 

You could look about in worry and care, 

But you know that sonny was far over there. 

But we're all born anew, now as it seems, 

So have it come true the visions and dreams, 

Henceforth for your sonny you'll think with pride, 

And vow to have him remain toy your side. 

Now you look at the world in a different way, 

The moment your sonny arrives to stay, 

You now are united to start life anew, 

And your sonny is back to share pardners with you, 

Your duties are lighter, your countenance sweet, 

The moment your heroic sonny you meet, 

The happiest of all the days of our lives, 

Is the golden day our sonny arrives. 



Return At Last 

At last when the screaming shells are a dream 
And the dawn has arlrved of a better day, 
And love and faith are what they scorn, 
And the price of war no more to pay; 
Wthen each day recalls a thought of peace, 
And sweel memory of the God above, 
And the curse of war forever cease, 
Supplanted by the seeds of love; 
When wrong at last through trying years, 

37 



Is conquered by a noble part, 

And humanity in all he: 

7.-joice in gladness from the heart. 

At last we feel that Greed and In 

Is conquered by a noble foe, 

And all can live in hope and trust, 

letter life may know. 
And now that peace is at our hand, 
We feel our work is through, 
We return once more to that fair land, 
To live in peace with you. 

* * # 

The Faithful Girl 

There is a bright little girl back in the Sta 

Whose heart beats fond and true, 

And her story for you she has to relate 

Is. soldier I'm waiting for you. 

Though j'our duty was a hard one for justice and right. 

Yet you kept on a si :y day, 

I realized 3'ours was to go and fig] 

Mine to stay home and pray. 

The days passed slowly while you were away, 

The time don't seem half worth the while, 

But I catch a glimpse of the golden day. 

When you return with a chejwy smile. 

I made you the promise I'd alwa; rue, 

And wait any period of time. 

'While duty has stepped between me and you. 

And took you to the old foreign clime. 

But this one thing is found to be true. 

_-_s her mind on the soldier does ponder, 

The longer lie seems to be absent from you, 

Hearts seem to grow the more fonder. 

Ek this one thing she has to say. 

Soldier, I have been true. 

And hope soon to see that day. 

For I'm looking and - you. 

* * * 

The Wooden Cross 

As we travel through France on the battlefields, 
We look on it's sights in sun 
We look at the building their doom is sealed. 
Where once in great beauty they'd ris 

But of all sacred places which brings forth a thought, 
Of sadness in this great loss 
Is the bit of ground on this memorable spot, 
Where's erected a wooden cr: - 

Here lays the body of some soldier boy. 
Died, that liberty might live. 
He was mothers hope, her pride her joy, 
The greatest of gifts she could give. 






It makes our heart grieve as the thousands we find, 

And count the enormous loss, 

"We pay honor and tribute to you sublime, 

And reverance that wooden cross. 

We remember the many that died or was killed, 
Without even notice at all, 

With naught to remember the duty you filled, 
Not a cross to note of your fall. 

We honor you heroes brave and true, 

Yet it grieves us to think of our losses, 

We hold sacred memory for the spot and you, 

Where are found these wooden crosses. 

When the great strife is ended and the race is run, 
And your 'Savoiur has paid all the cost, 
He will say unto you, my son, well done, 
And you are free from the wooden cross. 



Still Carrying On 

He's mustered from the army, 
But he still carries on, 
Many things he does unconscious, 
As he did there, so long. 

Mother says, supper boy, 
Come get your eats so fine, 
Her boy he grabs an old tin pan, 
And falls into a line. 

She calls him in the morning, 
When she hears the* rooster crow, 
It's not yet time to rise he says, 
For the bugle didn't blow. 

His dad says, son will you help me, 
To cut and shock the corn? 
Oh yes! dad, I'll fall out, 
What's the uniform? 

His boss says you may sport today, 
And have the horse and hack, 
His boy replies, boss that's fine, 
Light or heavy pack? 

His dad says now we'll have a hunt, 
Since you're a real good scout, 
Oh! thank you dad, the son replies, 
What time do we fall out? 

They start off towards the woods, 

About a mile or more, 

He looks down ;il d;id's old Step, 

And calls, left ,two, three, four. 
39 



They return at setting- of the sun, 
And around the table sit, 
But, before he carries on, 
He asks for his mess kit. 

He gets up from the table, 
And starts to sing a song, 
And because of force of habit, 
He takes the dishes along. 

He meets up with a pretty girl, 
This is what we heard him say, 
Oo-la-la-you mademosille, 
Parley-voo-Francaise ? 

He sees a police in uniform, 
With a new and dressy suit, 
He snaps his heels togther, 
And gives him a salute. 

He came up to an old stone house, 
And repeats his Frenchy act, 
By asking her the question, Madam, 
Avez voo coniac? 

He next walks down the street, 
Smoking his old pipe; 
Without thinking what he did, 
He stops to pick a snipe. 

He at last went to his bed, 
W^here he slept long before; 
And here he makes his little bunk, 
Upon the hard wood floor. 

Yes, he's mustered from the army, 
But it takes a good long while 
Before he stops carrying on, 
From this old army style. 



The Way It Came to the Buck 

When President Wilson had a plan, 
He called on all the youth, 
And he got them in the army, 
It's sad, but yet the truth. 

The orders for the army, 
In this great fighting plan, 
Was carried through by Pershing, 
The General and highest man. 

But the orders finally reached, 
To the old Buck private, too, 
And I'll show you step by step, 
Just how they all came through. 

40 



Wilson gave them off to Pershing, 
Pershing sent them down the line, 
To some Lieutenant General, 
Who was feeling mighty fine. 

The Lieutenant General read then, 
And placed them through his head, 
And said they don't belong to me, 
But the Major General instead. 

So the Major General got a slip. 
Which read just so and so, 
He winks his eye and by and by, 
To the Brigadier General they go. 

Now this man looks them over, 
And thinks them quite infernal, 
Then calls upon a motor car, 
To take them to the colonel. 

Now the Colonel has the orders, 
And reads just what they say, 
Then gives them to the Major, 
For him to have his way. 

When the Major has them ready, 
To make sure they are not missed, 
He calls upon the Captain, 
And gives to him a list. 

Now the Captain on the job, 
Looks them o'er, you bet your boots, 
Then keeps them going down the line, 
To the first and second Lieuts. 

The first liteutenant has his say, 
Then gives them with a toss, 
To the second- Lieut, who walks about, 
Just like as if he's boss. 

Now the second Lieut, very important, 
With his lonely bar of gold, 
Calls upon the old non-coms, 
And have them do as told. 

The old top kicker has them now, 
And instructs the Sergeants all, 
To see that every man will do, 
Just as the orders call. 

The Sergeants think about them, 
Arid cusses a little, too, 
Then calls upon their corporals, 
To see that they go through. 

The Corporals tell them to the squad, 
of first class privates and bucks, 
And gives them all that solemn charge, 
Thai now has tell their luck. 



41 



Now Corporal it is up to you, 
Whether it be truth or fraud, 
To see that every man comes through, 
That's in your worthy squad. 

Now the orders that come down the line, 
Hit you poor private and buck, 
All we can say that's on our mind, 
It's hell, you're out of luck. 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

The Big Game 

It was in the eighth, the score a tie, 

When old Woodie came to aid, 

With the A. E. F. as his support, 

The final hit he made, 

He put his men into the camp, 

Preparing for the curse. 

In spite of subs to throw them out, 

They landed safe on first. 

His men now standing at the bat, 

In every corner of France, 

All watched the Hun with keenest eye, 

Awaiting for their chance. 

At last he struck at Chateau Thierry, 

But we beat him in the race, 

And the old umpire called the yank, 

Safe on second base. 

Remember now the score a tie, 

Before Woodie came in. 

But now with two men safely on, 

A little hit would win. 

We made a hit in the old Argonne, 

And this is what was heard, 

The man advanced on second base, 

And was called "safe on third." 

He threw a drop at St. Mihiel, 

Along the old Meuse front, 

But we placed our bat before it, 

And made an old time bunt. 

In greatest cheers and worthy fame, 

The boys went cross the foam. 

Old Bill was out. we won the game, 

When we scored by sliding home. 



* * * 



What We Can Tell 

When we write a leter, 
To our friends back home. 
We tell them we are better, 
And things are going so. 

42 






You can tell them you are well, 
While over here in France, 
But to tell them any more, 
You take an awful chance. 

You can tell them of the army, 
And of the work we do, 
That's providing- you tell it, 
The way they want you to. 

You can say you like the work, 
And enjoy the army life, 
But to tell them any different, 
Would bring an awful strife. 

You can say this life's a beauty, 
And that France is simply grand, 
But to tell them any better, 
Is against the army plan. 

You can tell them of the cooking, 
And say the eats are swell, 
But to tell the truth about the slum, 
You sure would raise some hell. 

We can tell them of our drilling*, 
And how we do squads right, 
But to tell them how we hate it, 
Would bring about a fight. 

We can tell them of our billets, 
What a lovely place they are, 
But to tell them of the cow shed, 
Would place you under guard. 

We can say how far we traveled, 
And speak with words so grand, 
But to say we had to hike it, 
Is against the army plan. 

We can tell of all the fine trains, 
They have to ride in France, 
But to say a filthy box car. 
They'd make you step and dance. 

We can toll them any thing, 
Which they want us to say, 
But to tell what we would like, 
Means woe to you that day. 

But the day is coming soon. 

When we're on equal par. 

And wo can loll just what we please, 

In spito of the one who wore the bar. 

13 



Parting 



Old pal, the time at last arrived. 

Now to part. 

Although we're mighty glad to go, 

Ye:, it some how grieves our heart. 

Your military bearing, pal, 

Was mighty good to me. 

All through the game, while in camp, 

And far across the sea. 

Old pal. we're going back to friends. 

And this we're glad to do: 

But somehow your friendship remains, 

Although we say adieu. 

Yes, were glad to leave the army. 

And its hardships it would g: 

But I'll remember you in civic life. 

My pal, as long as I live. 



Our Dead 

They lie beneath the blood-stained sod. 
They fought so valiantly to win. 
They now passed on to meet their God, 
To rest forever more with Him. 

A wooden cross stands by their head. 

this their sacred gra~ 

Bre life and noble blood was shed, 
For all mankind to save. 

This ground is reverenced by all men. 
Where e'er the youth was los 
We honor your great sacrifice, 
You gave to pay the : 

Your rrieved with mar; 

With the flag placed o'er your head; 
But all mankind in coming years. 
Will honor you, our dead. 



K. P. (Kitchen Police) 

They took me to the am. 
I landed in Camp I 
And my very first Sunday. 
They had me on "K. P." 

We pealed five bushel spu 
And two barrels of celery. 
You mav s:uess how I liked it, 
The old^job of *K. P." 

You never liked this job. 
Cause you never could be free, 
"•^ut as long as in the army. 
You were subject to "K. P." 

44 



When you planned on a pass, 
And looked to it with glee, 
Your fun was then all canceled, 
By this old job, "K. P." 

When your old pal came around. 
And you planned a jubilee, 
Then the sad news came to you, 
Sorry soldier, you're on "K. P." 

When you stood Saturday inspection, 
With your gun clean as could be, 
The lieut. would say, a speck of dust, 
Put this man on "K. P." 

You thought you had your shoes O. K. 

For any old civie, 

But in the army if not right, 

They had you marked "K. P." 

If absent from retreat at night, 
They'r report one absentee, 
Then they would line you up, 
For extra "K. P." 

No difference what mistake you made, 
While in this man's army, 
You had to serve the time, 
In the kitchen as "K. P." 

When I leave the army life, 
I hope to be ever free, 
From this old army saying 
"K. P." "K. P." "K. P." 



Step By Step 



We first were taught to stand up straight, 
Our heels were made to click 
Our arms were long down by our side, 
And our steps were mighty quick. 

We next were taught to do a'bout face, 
With a bit of human pride, 
And learned the right and left as well, 
As walk with a military stride. 

They next put us in a squad, 
We did squads right and left. 
And if you did not do it right, 
They'd drill you by yourself. 

You learned these steps already given, 
You entered your platoon, 
And drilled t<> gel the men in Bhape, 
To make the company boom. 

i:, 



They next would give you right by squads, 

Or left front into line, 

And every man would do his part, 

To make the outfit shine. 

"We learned to do the manuel, 
With our rifle in our hand, 
And could do "port" with a snap, 
As we got the old command. 

They took us through the many steps, 
But the one that gave us trouble; 
Was the tune "pop goes the weasel" 
Cause we always had to double. 



In Line 

We were called upon to register, 
All men of various kind: 
But we had to take our turn, 
By falling into line. 

We went to be examined, 
And quite true, there we find, 
The men were called again, 
To fall into a line. 

They took us into camp, 
To train us for the line. 
There everything we did 
First, we had to fall in line. 

When we went to get our mess, 
Of slum they thought so fine; 
You had to first fall out, 
And form a single line. 

They would line you up for clothing, 
And for inspection too: 
They would line you up for pay day, 
If any was coming to you. 

Line up to sign the pay roll, 
Line up for salts or pills: 
Line up for pains or headaches, 
Or any other ills. 

Yes, its line up in the army, 
For some Lieut, to look you o'er; 
It's line up to get yourself bawled out, 
But you know not what it's for. 

It's line up every minute, 

For something left to do, 

And if you do not line up promptly, 

You are reported to some Lieut. 

46 






Then, to the orderly room you must go, 
And to punishment you're assigned; 
For not going on the double, 
And falling into line. 

Now for eighteen months we stood, 
In the army with a pine; 
And fully half that time, 
We were standing in a line. 

There is one more line we want to see, 
Then every man will shout; 
When he gets that bit of paper, 
Which says, you're mustered out. 



Whiz-Bang 

Oh whiz bang! how we fear you, 
How we dread your fearful flash, 
How we scramble When we hear you, 
Whiz -bang with an awful crash. 

You are small, but how you speak, 
Whiz- bang, the only word you say. 
Yes, in size your quite pertit, 
But you sure make them give way. 

I feel each time I hear you, 
That you're coming straight at me, 
That's why I bid my friends adieu, 
And run as fast as fast can be. 

When it oozes from the gun, 
No difference what men say, 
You can see them on the run, 
Whiz-bang, gets his own gang way. 

No one stays to give dispute, 

To your entrance in a crowd, 

Not a word heard in refute, 

To your tone which speaks so loud. 

From your tone you won your name 
Familiar to the entire gang, 
And through out this bloody game, 
You was known as just whiz-bang. 

When a soldier's pack was heavy, 
And his feet all tired, too, 
Then old whiz-bang says I'm ready, 
And must have something to do. 

Then you scramble every bone, 
With your heart all in a pang, 
As if speaks in monstrous tone. 
The old word W-h-i-z-b-a-n-g. 



47 



When you hear the guns repeat, 
The echo of their call, 
It almost takes you off your feet, 
Before you've time to fall. 

It kept you all in worry, 
As it spoke its great harrangue, 
And you always had to hurry, 
When you heard the old whiz-bang. 

When the war came to an end, 
' And we left the fighting zone, 
We hoped to meet a 'better friend, 
When we reached our peaceful home. 

But as long as we remember, 
The songs we ever sang, 
This one will be familiar, 
Which spoke W-H-I-Z-B-A-N-G. 



In the Army Now 

You're in the army now, 

You're not behind the plow, 

You have to dig ditch, 

You never get rich, 

'Cause you're in the army now. 

You're in the army now, 
You're not behind the plow, 
You soldiers will vow, 
Though a bum or a slouch, 
You're in the army now. 

You're in the army now, 
You're not behind the plow, 
You carry a gun, 
And keep on the run, 
You're in the army now. 

You're in the army now, 
You're not behind the plow, 
Most any would know, 
By the old bugle blow, 
You're in the army now. 

You're in the army now, 

You're not behind the plow, 

Here cake is quite shy, 

And we never get pie, 

'Cause you're in the army now. 

You're in the army now, 
You're not behind the plow, 
When you hear a command, 
You there understand 
You're in the army now. 

48 



You're in the army now, 
You're not behind the plow, 
They got us this time, 
In the old foreign clime, 
You're in the army now. 

You're in the army now, 

You're not behind the plow, 

But in the next war, 

They'll get me no more, 

I'm through with the army now. 



Who He Caught 

Who are all the soldiers, 
That march up and down, 
They are all the different men, 
Drafted from our home town. 

There's the butcher and the barber, 

And we find the baker, too, 

There's the millwright and the blacksmith, 

And the cobbler with his shoe. 

There's the student and the teacher, 
And the clergyman so tall, 
There's the lawyer and the doctor, 
Yes, he got 'em all. 

There's the common laboring man, 
And the machinist with his skill, 
And the shrewdest politician, 
Took 'em all to fill the bill. 

There's the firm's best stenographer, 
And it's superintendent, too, 
And next comes on its president, 
With a step quite snappy, too. 

There's the banker and the broker, 
Side by side with the old bum, 
They all marched off together, 
With the beating of the drum. 

There's the farmer and the teamster, 
And the various engineers. 
The conductor and the motorman, 
Joins with greatest cheers. 

There's the brakeman and the chauffeur, 
And the wealthy millionaire, 
He marches off side by side, 
Compelled to do his share. 

Y<s, Uncle got all kind of men, 
To put this job straight through, 
He had all the nationalities. 
From the Gentile to the Jew. 

49 




Red Cross Nurse 

When our mind is filled with sadness, 
"With the thought of this awful curse, 
It is then they are turned to gladness, 
By the work of the Red Cross nurse. 

When a soldier is blue and down hearted. 
And his heart is feeling so sad, 
Because from his home he is parted, 
It is then she can make him glad. 

When he came from the old front line, 

Wounded in shell fire there, 

To the hospital then he is signed, 

To recuperate under her care. 

When the soldier thought all went wrong, 
And he's left in his worry alone, 
It was then she would cheer with a song, 
In that wonderful wonderful tone. 

When the soldier at last said adieu, 
And the old fight soon he would hit, 
She said "I'm going too, 
And in that way 111 do my bit. 

So she followed him into camp, 
And far across the sea, 
And forever helped to stamp, 
The wrong of autocracy. 

When a soldier was sick in distress, 
And needed attention and care, 
He. was then in her loving caress, 
And his burden she helped to bear. 

So, give thanks to the noble girl, 
For her work in this awful curse, 
And ever hold her in memory, 
This great little Red Cross nurse. 



Just American 

When you see a boy in O. D., 
He belongs to Uncle Sam, 
You say his nationality, 
Is just American. 
But we find the boys in uniform, 
From the Gentile to the Jew, 
And their kin is found in America, 
And even Germany, too. 

We have the boy from Scotland, 
And a few from old Norway, 
And the one from dear old Ireland, 
In the O. D. suit so gay. 






50 



We have the boy from Canada, 
And the one from Greenland's sea, 
We have the one from Mexico, 
And the shores of Italy. 

We have some boys from Cuba, 
And from Hawaiian Isle, 
They all march off in O. D.'s, 
In a very noble style. 

We have the boy from Russia, 
Lapland, Poland and Swiss; 
We have a few from Africa, 
Who share the O. D. bliss. 

We have the boy from Turkey, 
-p^™™ England. France and Spain, 
We have the boy from Sweden, 
From Alsace Lorarine. 

They come in from Alaska, 

From China and Japan, 

They're here from every part of earth, 

But they are just Americans. 



"Five-Nine" 

You can talk about your trouble, 
You can talk of how you pine, 
But there's nothing make you double, 
Quite so fast as one "five-nine." 

You can talk of all your flurry, 
You can talk of how you shine, 
But there's nothing makes you hurry, 
Quite so fast as one "five-nine." 

You can talk of all your gladness, 
You can talk of things most fine, 
But they soon were changed to sadness, 
By the sound of one "five nine." 

You can talk of any sights, 
Which you saw in the line, 
But you soon start on your flight, 
When you hear the old "five nine." 

You can talk of any whiz bang, 

Of other shells, most any kind, 

But if you want to see them move the gang, 

Just call for one "five-nine." 

You can talk of bullets buzzin', 
And things that thrill your spine, 
Bui the thing that gets you fussin', 
is to hear the old "five-nine." 

61 



You can talk of things degrading, 
You can talk of things refined, 
But the thing that's got you fading, 
Is to hear the old "five-nine." 

You can talk of any man's career, 
When up around the line, 
But let me say they all had fear, 
When they heard the old "five-nine." 

You boast and let your mind reflect, 
How you think you would shine, 
But every person had respect, 
For the tone of the old "five-nine." 

You can talk of taking machine gun posts, 
How about them you'd entwine, 
But the thing that would check most any host, 
Is the burst of the old "five-nine." 

You can talk of horrid things you heard, 

No difference what come in mind, 

But the thing that gets the whole crowd stirred, 

Is the sound of the old "five-nine." 

You can talk of any thing you did, 

It matters not what the clime, 

The thing that simply raised your lid, 

Was the death tone of the old "five-nine. "« 

You can talk of all things done by the boys. 
And about in the air entwines, 
But the things that made them all take cover, 
Was the flight of the old "five-nine." 

You can talk of relics with greatest pride. 
And souvenirs of any kind, 

But the thing that would cast them all aside. 
Was the bang of the old "five-nine." 

You would walk until your feet were sore. 
And for punishment you'd be signed, 
Rather than walk an other step more, 
Except for an old "five-nine." 

You can talk of all things done by the boys. 
In holding the old ensign, 

But thev all had fear when they heard the noise, 
Of the burst of the old "five-nine." 

(The five -nine was a shell used in the late war by the enemy 
and the allies. It was five and nine-tenths inches in diameter. 
It was known among the soldiers as "five-nine." Some soldier 
has said that one only had five second to live after it left the 
gun and that when it landed it burst in nine thousand pieces.) 



52 



The Golden Day 

When the golden hour of sunset, 
Has come in a soldier's caress, 
He crawls into his bunk, 
And enjoys a peaceful rest. 

Only a few fleet moments, 
Till he's gone in slumber and dreams, 
And brings forth a picture of home, 
How wonderful it all seems. 

He sees the old homestead in dreamland, 
As to his weary mind it came. 
But the following morn he finds, 
It's the army just the same. 

But soon the great golden day, 
Will end his army career, 
And all will be mustered out, 
To go home, with shout and cheer. 

* * * 



A Regular Meal 

When mustered out he make a line 
For a restaurant that's up to time, 
•He puts his order in complete, 
He's bound to have somethng to eat, 
He orders up a sirloin steak, 
With plenty of gravy and well baked, 
Bring me — well, make it ham and eggs, 
And add a pork chop, too, he begs, 
Oh! waiter don't forget the cake, 
The kind like mother used to make, 
And bring a slice of jelly roll, 
And cream and oatmeal in a 'bowl, 
Put sugar on, I knew you would, 
And plenty cream, oh boy! how good, 
Now bring me half a loaf of bread, 
And don't forget the butter, I said, 
Now that is all except the pie, 
Which for a year I have been shy, 
And strawberries with sugar and cream, 
And that will fill the bill it seems, 
I wish you all could only see, 
Those eats they set right there by me. 
And experience, too, just how you feel, 
To have once more, a regular meal. 

* * * 

Yankee 

It was a tough scrap for you, Yankee, 
And it took a lot of pep, 

To stay and win, 

And keep a grin, 
And hold ni) the old — old rep. 

53 




It was no easy task, Yankee, 
To come from across the sea, 

To give up fun, 

And fight the Hun, 
In all his treachery. 

It was a long hike for 3*0 u, Yankee, 
And often it seemed Quite blue, 

But yet we thought, 

It must be wrought, 
And we'll stick to see it through. 

It was dangerous for you. Y^ankee, 
But Trust in Him on High, 

Made all men boast, 

And hold their post, 
Although some had to die. 

It was months of preservance, Yankee, 
But you stood and did it well, 

You did your part, 

To have depart, 
Autocracy to hell. 

It was one hardship after another, Yankee^ 
But we lived and fought it through, 

Now, Kultur's done, 

And we have won 
And we're mighty proud of you. • 

When you return back home, Yankee, 
You'll be the pride of every eye, 

A thanks you'll meet, 

From all you greet, 
As you go marching by. 

I think she'll still be waiting, Yankee, 
When you return from here, 

Oh! what a joy, 

Comes with that boy, 
When he meets her with a cheer. 

Yes, it was a hard road, Yankee. 

But it was more than worth the game, 

To meet all fears, 

So mother's tears, 
Will all be joy, not shame. 



Just Wandering 

Standing up on the old front. 
With the shells a falling near. 
One is made to feel the blunt, 
In all its greatest fear. 
With a helmet on your head, 
And a masque hung on you. too, 
You see in all its dread. 
The things ahead of you. 

54 






With your ritte in your hand. 

And the bayonet on your gun, 

You do not understand, 

Why such a thing goes on. 

But you stand and wait all night, 

Lest the Hun would spring surprise, 

And set the crowd to flight, 

And capture many lives. 

So there you stand in waiting, 
All night you keep a watch, 
Ready to start in fighting, 
Should Fritzie come across. 
And where your mind does wander, 
While standing there on post, 
Is enough to make you blunder, 
And give up at once the ghost. 

You wander all about the Hun, 
And how each one can fight, 
And how you'll use your gun, 
Should he come o'er tonight. 
You wonder just how large he is, 
And if he's a fighting man, 
And wonder how your chance is, 
To see your home again. 

You wonder about the old folks, 
Far, far across the sea, 
And if you'll ever take a boat, 
And meet them in their glee. 
You wonder about your sis, 
And about your brother, too, 
And all that you can wish, 
Is to France to say adieu. 

You wonder all a'bout your pal, 

You left back in the states, 

And think about many a gal, 

As Nell and May and Kate. 

You wonder how they pass the time, 

Since you have gone away, 

And if they ever think of you, 

And what they have to say. 

You wonder if you'll see your home, 

And faces, oh, so dear, 

You wonder why you had to come, 

And stand in war with fear. 

You think about the things you lost, 

By coming into France, 

And of that awful trip across. 

To fight and take a chance. 

You wonder all about the things, 

In circles far and near, 

And think of what it was that brings, 

You from that home so dear. 

You wonder and at last you say, 

In truth, I must confess. 

Old Bill, the Kaiser, he must pay, 

For he got us in this mess. 



His Mind Went Home 

We lived in many muddy trenches, 
And shell holes by the score, 
Where gas and water would linger, 
"With its steady dread and bore. 
But always when in these troubles, 
Our mind went o'er the sea, 
But it's natural that it should 
To the home folks, don't you see? 

"We hiked for many kilos, 

Through mud with heavy pack, 

The only think we had to eat, 

Was corn willy and old hard tack. 

But all this time we found, 

Our mind was sure to roam, 

To the little humble cottage, 

Which was caleld "home, sweet home." 

We stood in line day after day, 
And fought the treacherous Huns, • 
By giving life, the price to pay. 
The work of monstrous guns, 
But still our mind would leave us, 
To the old fireside so bright, 
Where was found that little family, 
Which to you brought great delight. 

We stood in great barrages, 

Where shells just swept the ground, 

And many dear old comrades died, 

From the sad and fatal wound. 

But all the while the guns were speaking, 

In sad and death like tone, 

Our mind was centered 'cross the sea, 

On our dear old home, sweet home. 

We took our stand in Xo-Man's Land, 

With shrapnel on every side, 

And machine gun bullets by thousands hissed, 

To change the lingering tide. 

In all these sights of horrid war, 

Brought grief unto our heart, 

We longed, we prayed to come again, 

In the home and share a part. 

We often experienced that old command, 

We all heard, "over the top." 

When the Hun put o'er his greatest work, 

In efforts to have you stop. 

With grief in heart and a tear stained eye, 

You look unto God in prayer, 

And ask to unite, if it be His will, 

In the little home "far over there." 

We fought when the Hun put o'er his gas, 
To contaminate the atmosphere, 
When you made your stand wearing a mask, 
With poison around everywhere. 

56 



Our thoughts in fear from deadly chlorine, 
And mustard, which blistered you sore, 
Your mind is turned, spite of all you can do, 
To the dear western cottage once more. 

We stood in the war through its course of destruction, 

And fought through it thick and thin, 

And at last the dove of peace came by, 

And we're spared by protection in Him. 

Every man who was spared from falling, 

Ascends his prayer to God's Throne, 

With thanks and great adoration, 

For bringing him safely back home. 

* * * 

Mother 

Dear Mother, when I read the tender love, 

And all your heart and hand has meant to me, 

My heart grows stronger in the God above, 

While I await in duty o'er the sea. 

Each line, each message, and each tender phrase, 

Reveals that love of mother for her son, 

And oft we long and pray to haste the day, 

When horrid war shall cease and all is done. 

Oft we looked upon this curse with fear, 

And thought to give it up in sad despair, 

But still we kept the patience, Mother dear, 

And labored on supported by your prayer. 

Our heart was often troubled by the wrongs, 

Of military work in this great game, 

But still we heard the echo of your songs, 
And smiled away our hardships as they came. 
I knew your troubles, Mother, in this war, 

I suffered oft to think of you back home, 
And of the noble part each Mother bore, 

While sonny did his part across the foam. 
We never went so far, we could not hear, 
The echo of your voice in loving tone, 
And find contentment in it, Mother dear, 
While off in. some war distant spot alone. 

Oft did we long to come once more, 
And see those loving eyes and hear your voice, 
And stand with you in western cottage door, 
And in reunion have our heart reloice. 
But, as we fought a picture semed to rise, 
Of why we fight the Hun, our dangerous foe, 

And seeing the reason for our sacrifice, 
We took now courage then and struck the blow. 
I saw in mind the innocent unborn, 
I saw the Belgian women as they lie, 
A victim of the Hun, undone and lorn. 
Their little children left alone to die. 

The brutish work of bloody bayonet, 
The feeble women slaving on the farm. 
To feed the German hordes unconquered yet, 

And keep their hellish ruler out of harm. 

I saw the churches undone to the ground, 
57 



And homes destroyed in spite of their great need, 
And thousands bore the scar of bloody wound, 
The fate of conquering dreams and selfish greed. 
I saw the helpless sinking in the sea, 
Yet Germans recognized it with a grin, 
I saw the babe innocent as could be, 
Go down a victim to this gang of men. 
I saw the towns of desolated France, 
Fruit trees destroyed in anger and in hate, 
I saw this picture as in a trance, 
And others that my lips dare not relate. 
I see and know with pain the reason why, 
We're called to make the noble sacrifice, 
And dry our tears and stifle every cry, 
Whate'er it takes to pay the noble price. 
Why we must fight, suffer and endure, 
For victory, nor stop to count the cost, 
Until our Liberty is made secure, 
And Democracy shall never more be lost. 
I saw the Hunnish planes fly through the air, 
The bombs they drop on peasants in the home, 
I saw the people flee, all in despair, 
Through destruction in their home they roam. 
I saw the thousands fall a victim fate, 
On battlefield, that sad and fateful spot, 
Where lives were lost to check that hellish hate, 
And conquer wrong for right where'er we fought. 
I saw these things as there we stood, 
A soldier for the cause of Liberty, 
With courage then we struck as best we could, 
To right the wrong for all humanity. 
So, Mother cheer your heart and dry your tears, 
After while, God willing, I'll return, 
We sacrifice today that through the years, 
We may enjoy the peace for which we yearn. 
Forget your weary troubles and your cares, 
Today we labor and tomorrow rest, 
We stand and fight backed by your prayers, 
For all Humanity, true and blessed. 
We battle for the Motherhood of earth, 
For Liberty, for Honor and for Right. 
So be proud that you gave birth, 
To one who lived to enter such a fight. 
Be glad you offered one in this great strife, 
To help the weak ones in their lone distress, 
And bring about again a peaceful life, 
For all His children true and blessed. 
Mother, cheer your heart, the day is won, 
And wipe away all tears, 
For now we're proud to say "well done," 
For all in future years. 




















58 



In Homeland of Our Dreams 

When this world wide war begun, 

Calling every mother's son, 

To shoulder up his gun for over there, 

Then it was the mind would wander, 

And your thoughts and soul would ponder, 

On a place much more fonder, 

In the homeland of our dreams. 



When they took up into camp, 

Preparing youth for weary tramp, 

For world autocracy to stamp, over there, 

It was there we had to miss, 

The smile of mother, dad and sis, 

And all their loving joys and bliss, 

In the homeland of our dreams. 

When they put us on the boat, 

To take us on the dangerous float, 

It was then we needed hope, for over there, 

When we hit the ocean wave, 

God to us protection gave, 

For He alone had power to save, 

To the homeland of our dreams. 

When we landed o'er in France, 
And marched forth to take our chance, 
- To check the Hun in his advance, over there, 
It was then our thought would roam, 
Cross the great sea billows foam, 
To the dear old folks at home, 
In the homeland of our dreams. 

When we laid in damp and rain, 

Enduring many aches and pain, 

And it all seemed quite in vain, over there, 

Then in slumber we would find, 

A faint picture on our mind, 

Of that fireside left behind, 

In the homeland of our dreams. 

While in rear we had to train, 

And fight with all our might and main, 

That we might our objective gain, over there, 

But as the days and weeks went by, 

We faced the task with keenest eye. 

And dreamed of great days by and by, 

In the homeland of our dreams. 

When we went into the trench. 

Bearing Old Glory there against, 

A tyrant, who had made offense, over there, 

We faced the dangers, brave and bold, 

And fought Just like the veterans of old, 

For right and justice to uphold, 

In then om eland of our dreams. 

59 



While fierciest winds and storms would blow, 
Through mud and dangers we would go, 
And silver linings failed to show, over there, 
Then much comfort it would bring, 
Just to pray and smile and sing, 
Trusting He would sometime bring, 
You to the homeland of your dreams. 



When the shrapnel swept the air, 

And wire entanglements set a snare, 

And bullets spoke beyond compare, over there, 

Then came forth our fiercest test, 

Calling on us for our 'best, 

For a people true and blessed, 

In the homeland of our dreams. 



When planes went hovering over head, 

Where soldiers were there paths they led. 

And drop their bombs and leave their dead, over there, 

It's there you long for your release, 

And haste the day when guns would cease, 

And all again would be in peace, 

In the homeland of your dreams. 

When we started off the drive, 

That liberty might still survive, 

Our hope was to come through alive, over there, 

But life, just like the little flower, 

Depended all on God's great power, 

To bring us through this trying hour, 

To the homeland of our dreams. 



When we hit the Huns in full suffice, 

Many youths had made the sacrifice, 

And gave the life as their great price, over there, 

For them we felt so sad at heart, 

To know that some day we would start. 

But they could never share a part, 

In the homeland of our dreams. 



At last war ended its abhor, 

The dove of peace came to our door, 

And hearts rejoiced as ne'er before, over there, 

And every nation that made a stand, 

And fought for right in foreign land, 

Acknowledged God's great guarding hand, 

To the homeland of our dreams. 



At last the time had come around, 

And soldiers heard the welcome sound, 

Rejoicing we were homeward bound, from over there, 

Our prayers ascend to God's great throne, 

For being spared through Him alone, 

Reaching safely home, sweet home, 

In the homeland of our dreams. 

60 



Our Fallen Deiad 

Not a drum was played or a funeral song", 

As the youth to the grave we laid, 

Not a soldier tarried, but haste along, 

As that fatal charge was made. 

The heroes were buried by shell's sad note, 

The sods with a shovel laid o'er, 

As the only hymn was played by the shot, 

Of the guns in this great war. 

Not a hearse was present for heroes brave, 
Nor fancy casket enclosed their breast, 
Of the hero who fought and died to save, 
A republic true and blessed. 
Many heroes were buried at dark of night, 
Without any words being said, 
To tell of the sacrifice for right, 
And the good of our noble dead. 

Not a sound was heard of a church bell, 

To toll to a soul the sorrow, 

Nor father or mother there to tell, 

The sadness it brought for the morrow. 

No fancy shroud was he bound in, 

But to him was given the best, 

Of the nation's O. D. around him, 

As we laid him away to rest. 

No sermon was given or preached at the grave, 

As the soul homeward was turning, 

No words to tell what the old folks gave, 

As their hearts for the youth was yearning. 

No words but the tone of monstrous guns, 

To tell or mention the loss, 

Nothing left to say "it is done," 

But the name on the small wooden cross. 

You fell on a soil far, far from home, 

But your Master has taken you in, 

And until the others are called to come, 

You are safely protected in Him. 

Thought your fate recalls a sad, sad story, 

And naught at your grave was said. 

Your supreme sacrifice you gave to Old Glory, 

Is an honor to you, our dead. 

When the screaming shot and shells are a dream, 

And the toll from the guns say adieu, 

We will then catch a sacred gleam, 

Of the tribute belonging to you. 

Though we spoke not a word, nor raised a stone, 

To tell of your noble career, 

We think of you ever in sadness alone, 

In memory sacred and dear. 



61 



,0* c'"°^*o 



\s * 











/\ . --w 






by 
/°*V '•'SUE-' o>°^ 




Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. ■«? 
* "^^/ Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide -J» 

Ou * » i • Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 

kjv. %«. <j* V ♦>& \. PreservationTechnologies i»J| 



«U* - 



^ 



1 ° °?f> c A W0RL0 LEADER ,N COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

* 1 111 Thomson Park Drive 

A' , Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 

<g? (724)779-2111 






~V « M fl ^ 



* ^ ... "V*' 









*"k ^* • 



^0* 




t *«?r 



^ ^ 



^ .e& 




^ *o . » * A 





















.»• A 










"^ 
*i». 




***d* 



«£<& 




A3* 



^ ^? 



1 *I\?* > v .•lilr- 



• • % a& ^f "° • * * i^ <> *<7yT* «G^ 




HECKMAN 

BINDERY INC. 

DEC 88 



N. MANCHESTER, 
INDIANA 46962 






